


there's a home in your heart, but it's not here

by AkumaStrife



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gansey Waxing Poetic Constantly, Getting Together, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkumaStrife/pseuds/AkumaStrife
Summary: Gansey could never quite stomach the news that he'd need to leave Henrietta, once again, to find the missing piece they needed for Glendower. But now that he's gone and fallen in love with his college campus barista like a complete cliche, he's very glad he did.





	there's a home in your heart, but it's not here

Adam’s third job was at the Tavern, the pricey little coffee shop down the street from the main campus.

Gansey knew this by the fact that in the mornings he often saw Adam leaving the dorms for a little independent bookshop three blocks down, and then after he left The Tavern he frequently went to the auto shop twenty minutes away where he tended to work late into the night. Not that he was stalking Adam or anything, he just happened to be going to classes around that time and maybe allowed himself late to Econ to see where Adam was going so early. Gansey found it _fascinating,_ because Adam was like a machine, always working, always studying, and still always looking so _perfect._

_“_ Alright, so where’s this coffee jesus?” Ronan asked. He already looked bored, but it was better than the alternative. 

“Wouldn’t your priest-pope guy call that religious blasphemy or something?” Noah said from under his arm, nose still buried in Ronan’s phone. And then, “Hey, can I get an Italian soda?”

“If Dick here is to be believed, jesus will understand,” Ronan said, but also tightened his arm around Noah, jostling him until he looked up from his game long enough to flash him a smile; a yes. Ronan rarely said no to him.

Gansey looked away, scanned the counter and waved a hand—or, more flapping it like chainsaw did when she wanted something—and hit Ronan’s arm several times. 

Ronan hummed, amused and irritated at the slap, and said, “Oh, him? Not all that impressive.”

“Don’t be cruel, he’s beautiful.”

Ronan ticked an eyebrow up in renewed consideration, and Gansey looked between them, seeing Adam through Ronan’s eyes, as if it was the first time. Their eyes followed the same path down the edge of his jaw, the cut of his cheek, the scatter of dusty freckles over a sun-weathered nose and under bright eyes. He knew when Ronan’s eyes found his arms, lean and strong, by the little hum he gave.

“Oh!” Noah chirped suddenly, tugging on Gansey’s wrist. “That’s Adam!”

“What?” Gansey spun on him. “How do you—“

“I spend a lot of time here,” he said with a shrug. “Friends with Blue. Not much else for a dead boy to do. Not without a social. Or a license.”

“Hey, zip it, I got you a license,” Ronan said with a snort. And then, “Who the _hell_ is—“

“Ey, it’s Aeropostale,” a girl said scathingly. She _sauntered_ up to the counter, hands in her apron pockets, utterly unimpressed. “Here to make obnoxious demands again?”

“Blue!” Noah flung Ronan’s arm off him to go lean on the counter and tug on her hair. “The frogs are a good touch.”

Blue grinned and adjusted the barrette under his fingers. “Thanks.”

“No,” Gansey interrupted, lurching forward out of his frozen horror. “No, really, I don’t intend to be any trouble.”

“Well, you are.”

Ronan threw his head back with a laugh—it was no secret he loved watching perfect people person Gansey tank an interaction. And he was always waiting for a repeat of the first time they’d come in here.

Blue’s expression darkened, lips pulling back into a barely contained snarl that somehow passed for a professional grin, matching Ronan’s. “ _You._ Nutty irishman.” Her eyes seemed to glint, wicked. “I’d say it’s good to see you again, but. It’s not.”

“Maggot,” Ronan greeted in return.

“Blue,” Adam said; a warning as weary as it was sincere. He stepped up between her and the counter. His hand hovered over the stacks of cups and, when Gansey was still too taken-aback to order when he was trying to patch up this failed relationship (Adam might never talk to him if Blue hated him), snagged a medium size along with the pen retrieved from behind his ear.

It was such a casual, practiced move that Gansey found himself a little speechless all over again. Adam pulling a pen out from behind his beautiful ear, looking so at home here in the cafe, like he belonged here with his apron and the coffee dusted appliances in a way Gansey himself never would be.

What could he possibly offer someone like that?

Adam began writing on the side of the cup—something complicated by the time he took.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that—“ _for me?_ He didn’t want to distract him if it wasn’t. Adam was a busy man, after all, and he was not here to get him in trouble.

“Don’t worry, I know what you want,” Adam said, confident. But the air slipped a little when he flicked a quiet glance at Gansey, a question that wasn’t one, not for Gansey himself at least 

“O-oh,” Gansey said, too slow, too awed to be properly suave. “Do you now?”

“Jesus,” Ronan said, rubbing a hand over his face.

Adam only shrugged, but retreated behind the espresso machine, ignoring the way Blue drilled a disgusted and betrayed look into the side of his head.

Gansey didn’t know what that meant, but there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to understand the gravity of that look, to have even a fraction of what Adam and Blue had built between them.

“Hey, you still have to pay, Ralph Lauren,” Blue snapped.

Gansey blinked; reached for his wallet automatically. “Oh— _oh,_ sorry. How much?”

“Twenty dollars.”

“Blue,” Adam said, without looking up.

Gansey handed over his credit card, signed the receipt, and carefully wrote “cash” on the tip line, looking at Adam as he deliberately pulled a crisp five from his wallet to place in the tip jar.

Adam saw, he could tell by the way he was looking a little from the corner of his eye, trying _not_ to look. Adam furrowed his brow, looking for all intents and purposes to be deeply insulted, but hadn’t quite figured out how he’d been offended yet. But Gansey had faith Adam would—his pride always found something about Gansey to be distasteful.

“Cool, thanks for the tip, J Crew,” Blue said, punching something into the register and then handing him a copy of his receipt. It plainly showed his drink—four dollars and eighty-three cents—and then his credit card tip of a full ten dollars.

“Oh.” He couldn’t contest it now, not while Adam was there, lest he look cheap, like he didn’t appreciate all the effort that went into making coffee and dealing with the public, so he merely smiled and nodded and moved down to where Adam was putting up his drink.

She’d already turned away to make Noah’s abomination of an italian soda, anyway. Noah always asked for half a dozen off-menu supplements and Blue never snap at _him._

That was fine. Blue had Noah, and Gansey had… well, he didn’t _have_ Adam, but they chatted sometimes; Adam not always sounding like a stilted barista with him like he had when Gansey first started coming around. It was something.

He took the drink off the bar, offering Adam a smile as soft as he could manage, and brought it up to his lips. And then stopped. He smelled mint. Something vast in it’s complication twisted on itself and fit snug in his chest. He turned the cup, Adam’s neat handwriting lined up in codes down the seam of the cup. This was one codex he wasn’t sure he could hope to learn, but he wished to.

“Just an americano,” Adam translated eyes conspicuously trained down at the bar. “But… with steamed cream, and peppermint. Extra hot.”

Gansey felt his cheeks flush quick and warm.

“Because you always hold it for a while,” Adam said quickly, “before drinking it.” He swallowed, cleaned something Gansey couldn’t see. “So. Yeah." 

“Oh,” Gansey said. “Oh, thank you, that sounds perfect.” It was so sweet, so thoughtful of Adam to know, to pay attention to him like that, that Gansey couldn’t bear to correct him that he was only ever lingering to savor Adam’s company.

~*~

“Surprise me.”

“I _hate_ you,” Blue said, with all the scathing vitriol she could muster. Which, given her small stature, was quite an impressive amount.

Ronan bared his teeth, amused if Gansey had ever seen it. “I’ll take one of those blended coffee milkshakes you hate making so much.”

“Of course you will,” Blue snarled right back, lips pull back to match his expression. It was uncanny.

Ronan watched as she pulled down a cold cup.

Blue held his gaze as she poured chocolate and then irish cream syrup into a measuring cup. She over poured both, and her eyes blazed in a challenge.

Ronan’s lips wavered, infinitesimally, but said nothing, unerringly stubborn to a point in which it frustrated everyone involved, himself included. He just kept unwavering eye contact; grin growing at every extra step she had to make, both physically and otherwise.

Gansey frowned and sighed, looking to Adam over the counter, and said, “I apologize for him. He’s been in a mood lately.” Even if this was infinitely better than the moods he got into which caused him to disappear during the night and return scuffed and bruised and vicious.

“What for?” Adam raised one perfect, if thick, eyebrow at him. “He’s not your responsibility. He’s a grown man. Technically,” with a dubious look in Ronan’s direction.

Gansey, who had never questioned his responsibly when it came to one Volatile Lynch, thought that was very kind of Adam to say anyway.

Blue _thunked_ the drink on the counter, pleased when some of the whip cream splattered out of the lid. “There you go, asshole.”

“Blue,” Adam warned.

“No, no,” Ronan said with a wave of his hand at him, tossing a few crumbled bills in the tip jar. “Let the maggot speak her mind.” He took a sip, his entire expression ground to a halt, and then he schooled it flat and held Blue’s triumphant gaze as he sucked down a large fraction without pause.

Gansey sighed again. Adam looked like he wanted to copy him, but kept his professional air, because Adam was at his base, amazing.

“Wash your blenders,” was all Adam ended up saying, and bent his head over some sort of checklist Gansey couldn’t quite make out through the grinders lined up on the counter.

Ronan waited until Blue turned away to grimace, smacking his lips in distaste and hand the rest of it to his boyfriend. Noah sipped at it happily, looking all the world like he’d won the lottery. But then, he always looked like that when free things, sweet things, Ronan things, or any number of occasions occurred, so it wasn’t worth much speculation.

What _was_ , was the third barista coming around the counter as he tied his apron

Gansey didn’t like Tad very much, but he was trying to be nice for Adam’s sake. Thankfully, Adam didn’t seem to like him much either. Tad was likable, if one was pressed, but he made comments _just_ offensive enough to make a person stop, but only _just_ often enough that one might forget why they weren’t terribly fond of him.

Ronan had said once, _“_ He’s got bigoted, republican trash parents, and it shows,” when Gansey tried to explain to him. He was right, of course, because Ronan never lied. Gansey couldn’t have put it any better himself (or else he would have. In politer terms.)

“Hey, Gansey!” Tad said brightly, wiping off his hands and stepping up to the register, expectant and eager. “What can I get you?”

Gansey stared, a little taken aback by his friendliness despite Gansey never having been more than polite in his interactions. Taken aback, as well, because he’d been counting on Adam being on register and having another spare few minutes to chat with him. “Oh. Well—,” and looked over to Adam, careful, questioning, wondering if Adam would step in, would make him something special again.

Adam flicked a look between Gansey and Tad, and seemed to flush.

Gansey stepped forward. He wasn’t going to make a spectacle of himself. Wasn’t going to make a big deal of things, when that was as clear of a pass as he needed. “Just an americano, please, today.”

He brightened when Adam took the cup, prepped a shot, and silently poured peppermint.

Tad’s eyes passed over Noah, snapped back, squinting. “Hey, I know you? You got a mocha that one time. With like, six shots. At around closing, insisted you were already dead so it didn’t matter.

“I am,” Noah said with a nod, sipping away at Ronan’s disaster of a drink. “Like, super dead.”

“He had a project to finish that night,” Ronan said, quick, if stilted. It wasn’t a lie, not really, when he’d been helping Gansey do research. Ronan himself was mostly busy compiling as many coins as he could find in his school bag, and then reaching into Gansey’s own pockets. He dumped the heaping handful into the tip jar, cackling at Blue’s squawk of outrage. It would be a good tip, once Blue finished counting it all out.

“But I got better,” Noah continued, not to be deterred in one of his favorite jokes. “Gansey found some Norns for me. Twisted up some ley lines.”

Adam’s head flew up, looking at Gansey sharp. Gansey startled, and then shuffled on his feet to be the object of Adam’s sudden and focused attention.

“So, y’know, no longer dead. Mostly. Technically. And all that.”

“Huh,” is all Tad said. He turned around to clean something, eyebrows high and eyes wide in clear confusion.

Gansey could kiss Noah for it.

But even later he couldn’t get Adam’s reaction out of his head. That _meant_ something. Adam knew something.

~*~

It was becoming habit to come into the Tavern after classes, if only because that was when Adam tended to work, and Gansey found his studies _infinitely_ more interesting if Adam was there to also look at. But only a little, because Ronan was calling him all sort’s of unflattering names relating to stalkers, and Gansey definitely was _not._

Thankfully Adam himself seemed pleased to see him most days, perhaps because Gansey wasn’t going to be some other customer who was more irritating. Gansey would take Not As Irritating. It was something. And he brought Noah as much as he could, because everyone liked Noah, and Blue was nicer to him when he had Noah as a balm, and that meant Adam was too. 

But more than ever Adam had begun _watching_ him, when they came in to do homework and discuss their next adventure. He hovered and cleaned around them and Gansey caught him watching and he tried not to be too flattered by it (he was, anyway.)

“Would you like to join us?” Gansey asked one afternoon. Too eager, perhaps, but Gansey had never been good at playing hard to get, he was too honest in every interaction.

Adam blinked his long, dusty lashes. A flush spread under his sun-touched skin. “What, no—no, I have to get back to work.”

“So?” Ronan said flippantly. He looked it, leaning his chair on the back two legs, one foot propped on the edge of Noah’s. “Seems slow.”

Adam’s expression shuttered down and darkened, but Gansey didn’t see it in time as he said, “I’ll pay for another drink, if that would help?”

Adam’s mouth slashed into a snarl quick enough that it had to be subconscious, because it was obvious how hard it was for him to wrestle it back. “I’m not—I can’t be _bought.”_

Blue appeared almost by magic, brandishing a broom as if hoping to sweep more than dirt out the door. “Yeah, we’re not prostitutes, you asshole. If we wanted to hang out with the likes of you, we would, but we _don’t._ ”

Gansey held up his hands, scooting his chair away as his eyes went wide. “No, no, I’m sorry, I hadn’t meant it like that, only—“

“Oh? And how _did_ you mean it?” Blue spat. She has a whole head shorter than Adam at least, and yet she put herself between them like a yapping dog. “You rich dicks are all the same.”

“I only meant that you seemed interested,” Gansey pleaded, looking to Ronan for help and realizing his mistake immediately. Noah blinked large and owlish at the spectacle, and almost as an afterthought put a hand gentle on Ronan’s knee. Ronan settled, if only a little. “With our topic. Do you know of Glendower?”

Adam blinked, visibly warring with his upset and his curiosity. “No,” he said, sharp. With that he spun and took Blue with him. She stuck her tongue out at them, among other rude gestures not appropriate for her workplace.

 

 

Adam didn’t speak to him with any familiarity for the next three visits.

Gansey used all the willpower he possessed not to plead with him, not to bring him gifts (even if he had seen a beautiful leather messenger bag that would fit Adam perfectly), not to over tip him for any apparent ends. It was very difficult, when Adam was always beautiful enough to inspire it. 

It distracted Gansey from his classes, from his state dinner with his mother, from his search for Glendower. Glendower would wait for him, as he’d been waiting for centuries. Adam, on the other hand, was, shockingly, gloriously, mortal and ephemeral. It was vexing and incandescently fascinating at once.

His patience was rewarded the next week when Adam regarded him carefully, as if trying to work out a puzzle. Gansey stayed quiet to let him.

Finally, Adam said, as he handed back Gansey’s change, “You were talking about ley lines. Last time. And a couple times before.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Gansey said. “Are you familiar?”

Adam shrugged, looked away and then glancing back, unable to help it. “I studied them. Still am. There aren’t as many active ones around here, but…” Another shrug, a flex of his bicep as he moved to make Gansey’s drink and thus distracted Gansey wholly.

It was an olive branch, and Gansey was willing to pull it as close as he was allowed.

~*~

They must, miraculously, catch Adam on an off day. He was in casual clothes and looking slightly less exhausted, idly shuffling a deck of cards at the bar and chatting with Blue. He flicked a look over to Gansey as he stepped up to the register, and glanced away when Gansey smiled with all the charm he possessed.

Blue broke away from him to take their order, but paused midway with a theatric sigh and a, “Noah, you’ve got a smudge. Just there, on your cheek.” She reached across the counter with her ratty sweater sleeve pulled over her fist to wipe at it.

Noah ducked away like they were playing a game. “Aw, it’s nothing.” Ronan, beside him, had frozen.

“How do you always manage to get so dirty?”

“Skateboarding,” he answered. He grinned at Gansey and Ronan, waiting to be praised for his clever joke.

It had gone very quiet. Even Adam had stopped shuffling his cards, eyeing them all and shoulders up, a wall against the tension he could no doubt sense.

Ronan scowled and shoved his hands in his pockets and stormed out, slamming the door despite the hydraulic hinges.

“Did I—what’s his damage?” Blue said.

“Who can tell. Perhaps it’s a Tuesday,” Gansey said quickly, but not as smoothly as he’d like. He couldn’t help an almost guilty glance at Adam, who was back to shuffling. But Adam was looking at Noah now instead, eyes clouded and thoughts visibly turning.

Gansey only noticed now that the deck of cards were not the traditional bicycle sort, but tarot.

He, in turn, began assembling a puzzle he hadn’t previously realized he’d been collecting jagged pieces for.

“Are you free?” Gansey found himself asking, looking at Adam, who had deigned him with the privilege of looking back.

Adam furrowed his brows in palpable confusion. He hadn’t stopped shuffling. Gansey’s thoughts were pulled, inexplicably, back to when Adam thought he’d been trying to buy his time. He hurried to elaborate before Adam misunderstood.

“We could talk about the ley lines more,” he offered. “Or do homework with us. Or,” casting desperately for something to hold Adam’s attention. “You said you didn’t know about Glendower, but that’s the bit of magic I’m most fascinated with, if you’d like to hear about it? We’re looking for him, you know, on the weekends. I’ve been looking for years, if you haven’t got, well, other things.”

Blue snorted, completely hidden behind the espresso machine, and Gansey couldn’t tell if it was amused, mockery, or disbelief of the impressed kind.

Against all odds Adam said, “Okay.”

It was a mad and flustered dash on Gansey’s part to spread out all of his research, years of it, before Adam and try to put it in a sensible order for him, bouncing from page to page as he looked for what aspect might keep Adam’s attention. But Adam seemed cautiously interested in _all of it._

It made Gansey breathless. He felt like he’d been given a gift, and even Noah reappearing and dragging Ronan behind him couldn’t damp the mood of tentative curiosity that had enveloped them.

Adam let him talk for far longer than anyone else had in too long, only interrupting him with a few careful questions here and there, reaching to point at passages or maps, or brushing Gansey’s own fingers away from a bit he was reading, completely unaware of the devastating effect that one touch had on Gansey’s circulatory system. And all the rest of his systems.

“Seems like you’ve got a substantial amount of research,” Adam said some time later. “You… you’ve figured out where he might be, haven’t you.”

Gansey grinned wide, pleased Adam was so bright. “Yes. We do. Probably. We were there, for a while, but, there were psychics, you see, and they said we weren’t prepared.”

Adam cocked his head, eyes narrowing in consideration.

“Said we were missing a magician or some shit,” Ronan interjected scathing. “What a load of shit that is, what’s some dude with a goofy cape and a balloon fetish gonna help us with?”

“Maybe it’s not that sort of magician,” Adam said carefully.

Gansey looked at him. Looked at the neat stack of cards at his left elbow. He gestured at them. “Interesting hobby. Are you proficient?”

“Enough.” Adam was guarded again. Gansey wanted to curse himself. Adam was an ever-shifting mystery wrapped in those frustrating little metal puzzles you find in waiting rooms. He didn’t offer more. For now Gansey didn’t ask.

Glendower was, as always, at the top of their priorities, but Adam was just as fascinating, was just as much a magnetic field as any other magical artifact Gansey had chased. The only difference was that Adam, unlike the other magical items he sought, did not stand still. Gansey would almost compare him to Ronan if he didn’t dislike the idea so much.

~*~

“You’re just going to _drop out?”_ Ronan asked that night, an inelegant sprawl along their patchwork couch. Noah sat somewhere between his boney knees and yet nowhere in their physical realm at all. It was still hard to keep track of him at times.

“Oh, don’t take that haughty tone with _me,”_ Gansey shot back. It lacked any real heat, his back turned to Ronan as he portioned out takeout onto equally lack-luster paper plates. “You’ve tried to drop out no less than five times, and we’re only in the second semester. Besides.” He spun, fixing Ronan with both a look and an oversized fork, “I can defer for a year or two, hold onto my credits. It shouldn’t take long.”

Ronan snorted. “Not long, it’s only tracking down a legendary myth. Did you forget we’re missing some integral piece?”

Gansey was quiet for a long time. Longer than it took to get dinner set out when it was already ready.

“You think it’s Adam.” Ronan sat up. His expression, when Gansey glanced at it guiltily and yet not sure why, had darkened. Not for the first time since the accident that had taken Neil Lynch’s life, Gansey lamented the loss of his ability to read Ronan.

Instead of trying to divine Ronan’s thoughts, he simply said, “I do.”

“Because you like him.”

Gansey felt his ears warm. “No. Well, yes. But I don’t think those two things are separate." 

Ronan rolled his eyes, relaxing against the arm of the couch again when he’d tensed without Gansey realizing it. He nudged at Noah. Noah nudged him back, but said nothing, deep in thought. “Just because you like someone doesn’t mean they’re magical and important to our cause.”

Gansey let himself feel a moment of warmth, always reassured when Ronan lumped them together; reassured that after all this time and after all of Ronan’s complaining, he still wanted to follow Gansey wherever his research took him. If Gansey believed in soul mates, he would not be surprised to learn that Ronan was his, regardless of the form their relationship took.

“Perhaps,” he finally allowed. He handed Ronan a plate and then Noah’s his. He took his own over to the old wooden crate that served as an ottoman near the coffee table. It was covered in shipping stamps and all sorts of old markings from being used overseas. It was charming and Gansey loved it, despite the occasional splinter. “Maybe not, but in this case I think so. Haven’t you noticed? He knows about the ley lines. He reads tarot like a casual habit rather than because it’s become trendy.”

“He makes you special coffees,” Noah pointed out.

“He makes me special coffee,” Gansey repeated. And then paused, flushing. “Wait, no, that’s not—that’s separate.” But it was too late, Ronan was already laughing, head thrown back, and both he and Noah just watched him for a long moment as he shook.

“He _knows_ things, Ronan, we don’t always see that in people,” he continued, picking up steam and confidence. He was sure of it. Adam had to be the one.

“Even if he is, what makes you think he’d come with us?” Noah asked. “Adam’s working towards a law degree. He’s got jobs and a scholarship to keep up.”

Gansey frowned; he’d been trying not to think about that, trying not to remember that most people had lives that were not as blessedly flexible as theirs.

“He does work very hard,” Gansey allowed. And made things rather difficult.

Ronan added, “and he’s hot.”

Gansey pursed his lips. “Y-yes, but that doesn’t have anything to do with _this.”_

Ronan grinned like he had when they were twelve. “Just wanted to hear you admit it.”

Gansey thought for a while longer as they ate, Noah showing Ronan videos on Ronan’s own phone. He considered, and reconsidered. Made mental plans and then discarded them immediately. The easiest and most obvious answer was right in front of him, but that meant waiting, and he never was very good at that.

“Alright,” he finally said. “Fine. No one’s dropping out. We’ll stay here for a bit longer, while I figure out our next move.”

“While you make a move on Adam,” Ronan corrected.

Gansey sniffed, reproachful and disappointed. “Adam does not seem to be the sort who appreciates being pursued.”

“Maybe he’s never had anyone he liked doing it,” Noah said. He offered a kind smile. “Think about it. He’s always been pretty guarded from what I know, focused on his schoolwork and his other work. Maybe he just hasn’t noticed.”

Adam was, in Gansey’s opinion, so heart-stoppingly desirable and laden with wonderful qualities that Gansey couldn’t quite believe that. But it was worth more consideration as well.

 ~*~ 

He did consider it. Quite a bit. A lot more than perhaps he should given everything else, but it was hard not to when Adam handed him drinks with _looks_ that shone with Curiosity and Knowable. In relation to Gansey. Not the other way around. Because Adam Parrish did not make himself Knowable and he seemed to like that just fine.

He thought about it more when Adam bussed tables near them and, without looking dodgy or acting as if he was not interested, stepped up to their table and asked if Ronan was speaking Latin (he was, vulgar, but was all the same.) 

He thought about it when it was late and Adam was sweeping around them, for the first time not needling them to leave so he could get a jump start on closing up. He even mopped around them, asking Gansey a question about his research while he nudged Noah’s chair in something as close to a tease as Gansey had ever seen.

Ronan said something scathing and Adam _laughed._ It was closer to a sputter, but Adam’s head tipped to the side and his eyes closed and the yellow cafe lights above him caressed every angle of his face to his shoulders.

Ronan reached over to hit his chin and snap his mouth closed, nearly biting his tongue off in the process. But it was all before Adam managed to open his eyes again and catch him staring, so that was fair.

He thought about… other things, pertaining to Adam, after that. Less about their quest and more about what it would be like just to have Adam with them. Not as a piece, a magician, but as a beautiful boy lounging in the passenger seat of the pig. To see that laugh again, open and free with the window rolled down and backlit by sunshine and dust kicked up under his tires. To sit across from him at other cafes or diners, food in one hand (Adam desperately looked like he needed to eat more) and Gansey’s beloved research in the other.

Adam, known. Adam, attainable. Adam, his.

 

 

At some point in the coming weeks Gansey realized he’d stopped considering whether Adam would like to be pursued, and let Adam do the approaching. It had just been easiest that way, when Adam was unpredictable and guarded and, on his worst days, moody and prone to snapping.

Gansey wasn’t _sure_ that’s what was happening (he hoped,) but more and more when Gansey smiled at Adam, Adam smiled back. When Gansey asked Adam for help with a particularly tricky piece of homework, Adam would sit backwards in a chair and go over it with him. When Gansey had a map spread out in front of him, Adam wandered over to hear about it on his own. He would always stand close, clutching some sort of cleaning tool, unable to break from his routine, but standing close regardless, his hip at level with Gansey’s shoulder, sometimes leaning in over the table to point and Gansey having the worst desire to lean his cheek against Adam’s side, where his apron tied over slim hips. Gansey cherished those moments the most, tucking them down into his chest and bringing them back out to examine from every angle when he lay awake in bed and unable to sleep.

They were always closest then, and Adam smelling oddly, wonderfully, of fresh rain and cedar wood warmed in the sunshine.

It was that exact combination of smells that dulled Gansey’s senses the next time they were chatting at the bar before Gansey (blessedly alone) wandered off to find a table big enough for his newest stack of library books. He was so preoccupied and having a nice time basking in Adam’s company, that he smiled and asked, thoughtlessly, “Are you free tonight? After your shift, of course, I would never ask you to call out early.”

Adam startled, hands stilling from where he was refilling the grinder hoppers. A light cascade of coffee beans rained down along the counter between them. He rushed to right the container, sealing it tightly. “I, uh. I have homework, actually, a lot of it. I don’t have time to continue our discussion on dowsing rods.” He winced.

Gansey recognized the flash of regret stealing across Adam’s face. It was an expression of wishing to take one’s words back, and Gansey was intimately familiar with it. He bulled on.

“Not like that. I meant dinner. I was wondering if I could take you to dinner, after work. If you were free. And were inclined.”

Adam frowned, suspicious now. Gansey wanted to hit himself over the head with a pastry tray. “I don’t need your charity,” spat like a curse. “I don’t need you to _pay_ for me—“

“As a date, Adam,” Gansey said, suddenly tired. He very much would like to reach over the counter and shake Adam. “I’m asking you on a date. To dinner. Please. You could pay for yourself, I suppose, but as a date, and I’d like to treat you.” He was losing steam, losing confidence. “Treat you, as my date.”

“Oh,” Adam said, and it came out very weak indeed. He scanned Gansey’s face quickly, looked over the rest of him, the gears that made up his beautiful brain turning turning turning. Finally, after a long moment where Gansey didn’t breathe and Adam breathed much too fast, Adam blushed under his tan.

“Why?”

That made Gansey pause. Of all the things he’d expected, and planned for Adam to say, this was not one of them.

He made a noise of uncertainty, not wanting Adam to speak too quickly but unsure what the right answer was. The longer he dallied, the more distrust crept into Adam’s face.

The truth, then, even if it somehow insulted Adam. “Because I would like to? And I like you? I know I am not,” he fiddled with his glasses, “very subtle in my interests, and that extends to people, and I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable these past months. Adam, you’re an extraordinary young man, smart and talented and hold yourself with a sense of dignity and confidence I admire. You are, also, of course, very handsome, and I would very much be grateful for your company this evening. Or any evening you’re free.” He bit back a grimace—he sounded like his _father,_ ugh, how terrible. Nervous and stilted, and Adam couldn’t possibly want to spend time with him when he sounded so _old._ Ronan’s familiar geriatric-related jeers echoed in his mind and he found himself looking away and _praying_ to any of the old gods that might be listening. There had to be at least a few of them still around.

After a long time—the fan in a machine behind the bar kicking on, the fridge humming low—Adam wet his lips (Gansey looked because he had an awful sense for these things,) and said, “And if I said no?” 

“I see,” Gansey said too quickly. His shoulders dropped. But that’s not what Adam had said, exactly, yet, so, “Then I would accept it graciously. Um,” _be sincere, be true, good god Gansey you’re a mess, you’re barely a man stop sounding like one, “_ I’d be disappointed, of course, but that’s your choice and I wouldn’t want to pressure you.” Quicker, “or lose your friendship! I would like to keep being friends and chatting when you can, it’s refreshing to find people interested in the same subjects—that is, we are friends, aren’t we?” 

Adam looked at him oddly. And then he huffed a laugh and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, Gansey, we’re friends,” as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “Okay.”

Gansey waited. Waited for more of the sentence. But Adam just looked at him, eyebrow raising, and realized there wasn’t anymore to the sentence. That was the sentence. That was—

“Oh!” He grinned and inhaled so fast it hurt and he accidentally hiccupped. “Oh, okay? Really? Are you—“ Adam was laughing at him now, slight, restrained, but all the same. He could only stand and smile at Adam, freely admiring his facial features and the breadth of his shoulders and the odd little freckle right on the tip of Adam’s nose. Adam blushed, smile faltering when he realized what Gansey was doing. But that’s all right, Gansey found him achingly beautiful and maybe he’d be granted time to convince Adam of it himself. “Wonderful. That’s great, thank you Adam. You said you had homework tonight, when would be more convenient?" 

Adam considered. He pressed a couple buttons on the register without any real purpose. “I could… I could make time, tonight? Casual?” he asked, sounding like pleading. Or as close as some like Adam got, perhaps.

“Of course,” Gansey said. He nod and mentally rearranging his initial dinner plans. He’d wanted to truly treat Adam to something he was worthy of, but… but if it would make Adam more comfortable, they could start somewhere familiar and work their way up. It was terribly optimistic, but at this second Gansey was feeling optimistic and thought, in a series of flashes, all the dates he could take Adam on.

He brought out his wallet. “I have homework to do, if you wouldn’t mind me waiting around?" 

Adam tilted his head, thinking, but shook his head, and didn’t meet his eyes as he punched something into the register and pushed away Gansey’s offer of money. “No, don’t, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.” He was still touching Gansey’s hand, pressing it against the counter. He looked up, brief through his eyelashes and Gansey’s heart stuttered to an embarrassing and painful stand still. “I’ll buy your coffee today, because you’re. You’re buying dinner.” Not quite a question, but uncertain still to himself. 

Gansey beamed at him, relieved and pleased and looking forward to dinner very much. His excitement seemed to assuage Adam, who relaxed and nodded to himself, concluding some internal struggle not meant for Gansey. 

Adam stepped away to make his drink and Blue appeared from the back. Her eyes were narrowed and her jaw tight. She leaned on the counter and hissed, “That was a goddamn hot mess.”

Gansey’s expression crumbled, his good mood dipping off kilter. He dropped his head into his hands low by the register where only Blue would see. “It was, wasn’t it?” His face felt hot. “He said yes, though. Help me? I’m going to make a fool of myself.”

Blue balked audibly and caused Gansey to look up. “Absolutely not! He said—no, he didn’t.”

 “He did! I promise! I’m taking him out, tonight, and I don’t want to ruin it. Please, Blue, you know him better than anyone.”

She preened at that, despite everything. “Yes, I do. But, no. If I have to listen to his stupid asides about your research and your vapid rich person adventures, then you have to struggle alone.” She flounced off.

It took Gansey a long moment to move away from the register and accept his cup from Adam, looking at him long enough to make Adam uncomfortable and turn away, but Gansey couldn’t help himself.

Adam Parrish, focus of many of his wonderings lately, _talked about him._

 

 

Gansey made himself scarce for the rest of the afternoon, letting Adam work and working himself through the books required for his term paper on early fourteenth century Italian architecture. And then when he’d grown tired of that, switched over to the other stack of books for his Glendower search. If he even found a paragraph useful to their cause he’d consider all the work worth it. 

Adam came round his table to check on him a grand total of three times, and each time he either offered Gansey a refill or a polite question on what he was reading now. It seemed an excuse more than anything, a purpose to come close, considering Gansey now in the same way Gansey had been considering him for months. It made the time pass all the slower, but that was fine. Gansey had _a lot_ of books with him.

 

  

Dinner went well. Exceptionally well. Almost too well with how much Adam had made himself unavailable in the beginning.

But Gansey had taken him to a clean and well-respected Italian restaurant near by (“all that research made me crave it,” Gansey admitted sheepishly,) that had lower prices and mostly populated by college kids. Adam even looked like he recognized many of them, waving awkward to a few tables of people grinning at him.

It was a good choice, and Gansey ran with that good luck all through dinner. Gansey asked about Adam’s studies (pre-law, how admirable and intellectual) and classes, and actually received enough answers to not press for more when everything he was getting was unprecedented.

Unsurprising, the conversation turned to Glendower, and Gansey couldn’t help letting Adam steer him towards that rabbit hole, losing himself in the discussion and getting more excited when Adam was more than engaged, several times interrupting with his own thoughts with his mouth full, and always flushing when he realized he had. It was utterly charming and Gansey fell a little harder each time.

All in all, maybe it was unconventional for first date talk (Gansey felt slightly faint every time he remembered that’s what this was) but it was an important facet to Gansey, and Adam acted as if this was exactly what he wanted to be discussing on a first date. 

He got the check, ignoring how Adam had picked something fairly cheap, and was even allowed to hold the door for Adam. Adam fisted his hands inside his sweatshirt pockets, a clear sign that Gansey noted graciously that hand holding was not on the table this evening, but smiled tight all the same at him. Gansey got the impression that this whole scenario was new to Adam, that he hadn’t done this very often, and coupled with Blue’s cryptic behavior earlier Gansey realized how utterly lucky he was.

Of course that meant that Gansey’s good luck couldn’t continue, because when he turned the key in the pig’s ignition, allowed as well to drive Adam back to his dorm, nothing happened. The engine rattled and tried to turn over, and shuddered into silence once more.

“Oh no,” Gansey whispered in horror, and let his head fall back against the head rest. He tried again, once more, and each time the car refused to start. “It’s throwing one of its tantrums,” Gansey assured Adam, that this was normal. Didn’t change the fact that it was mortifying.

A rustle from the passenger seat had Gansey looking over in time to see Adam shrug. “It happens. Well, obviously it does, if you’re used to it. But cars can be… fussy. Want me to take a look?”

“What?”

“I could look at it, for you. I work on cars part-time.”

Gansey had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from admitting, _I know, I followed you once._ Adam surely would never speak to him again. Instead all he managed was, “Oh really? Yes, be my guest. Maybe you can show me something. I admit, I’m terrible at the whole thing.”

Adam’s expression softened as he laughed, even if he looked rueful. “Why’d you get such a problem car if you can’t fix her?” He still climbed out of the car and waited for Gansey to join him before popping the hood.

“It has character, and I thought it was gorgeous.” But that wasn’t really a good reason for an impractical and unreliable vehicle (he immediately said a mental apology to the pig, because it had always worked when he _really_ need it to.) “Helen got a helicopter, you know, my older sister, so I’m not that ostentatious.”

Adam blinked at him, and then shook his head and bent over into the exposed mechanics. 

“Oh no,” Gansey said, very, very softly.

Adam hummed in question, twisting to look at him. The hood blocked the overhead light pole and, in turn, threw attractive shadows over Adam. It softened him, shrouding him in a comfortable sort of mystery.

“Nothing,” Gansey sputtered. And then, “I mean, light. You need light.” He fumbled his phone out of his pocket, dropped it on the asphalt, flinched with Adam at the clatter, and stooped to pick it up. The screen was fine, but the corner had a small nick. Gansey exhaled on a smile and lifted it to show Adam, who nodded and turned back to the engine. Gansey flipped on the flashlight function and helpfully pointed it at… whatever Adam was poking around with.

Adam hummed and mumbled to himself for a moment. “Here, this might be part of it.” Before Gansey could ask _what_ was part of it, Adam straightened to pull off his sweatshirt and hand it to Gansey. Gansey was too surprised to do anything other than hold it, folding it carefully and tucking it under one arm. It was warm.

“Light?” Adam prompted and Gansey jerked his phone back into place. His cheeks burned. His eyes were trained somewhere around the joint of where hood met chassis, except that wasn’t true at all because he was looking at Adam’s faded blue t-shirt, rumpled up to show the belt loops of his jeans, and then when he moved, shifted up a little more. Gansey fixed his eyes on the front left tire. That was _rude_.

He was disgruntled to realize the rejoinder sounded like Blue.

Adam sighed and said, “Light?”

“Sorry.” He lifted his hand again and made himself look so his beam of light didn’t go wandering off again. Adam was doing him a great favor and here he was making things difficult for him. “Tell me what you’re doing?”

Adam did.

It was a lost cause from the start because as soon as Adam spoke Gansey was focusing on the sound of his voice more than the words, and the way his tone stretched and lowered when he himself did to reach something. It didn’t help when Adam leaned one knee on the bumper—no, fender? Suddenly Gansey had forgotten every useful piece of information he had about cars, including the obvious ones.

Someone laughed sharp, and Gansey’s shoulders jumped up. He expected to see Ronan behind him, but when he looked it was only a large black bird sitting up on the light pole above them. He scowled at it. It wasn’t Chainsaw, but it still felt like a personal slight.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said, instead of waste more of Adam’s time explaining things to him he surely wouldn’t remember. “I’m embarrassed things have ended like this. I’d still like to take you home, if we can get her running. She will, she always does in the end.”

Adam waved a grease-streaked hand at him. “S’alright. Kinda nice, actually, to know you’re human like the rest of us.” His voice had dropped slightly into a native accent ( _comfortable, not guarded_ , his last remaining brain cells realized) and it drizzled over Gansey’s ribs and warmed him low where his longing for home sat heavy.

“Of course I’m human,” Gansey said. A little late, but he knew what Adam meant. Knew what Adam saw when he looked at him: money, status, legacy. Privilege. “Tell me, are you human as well, or is that something I should’ve been worried about?”

Adam fiddled with a wire connection and said nothing. Gansey waited, curiosity changing shape. And then Adam twisted and offered Gansey a secretive smile that kicked up one side of his mouth higher than the other. Gansey suddenly very much wanted to kiss that smile. “Most of the time.”

It was a joke, but something about Adam’s expression, his too easy posture paired with the tight curl of his fists where he thought Gansey couldn’t see them, hit Gansey hard in his chest like a shove. He really wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Adam, in this moment, more than anything he’d ever wanted before.

Adam straightened and looked steadily back at him, leaning back on the open edge of the engine cavity, like he could read it all over his face. He probably could. The evening air hung thick between them, humming with slow-built energy and possibilities, the future spiraling out in a dozen different threads. All Gansey had to do was reach out and grab the correct one.

“Thank you,” Gansey said, quiet and steady and final.

Adam tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly, but Gansey was pretty sure he’d made the right choice. There would be time for… other things. “No worries. Let’s see if she turns over before you start thankin’ me.” He reached to wipe his hands on his jeans and then looked up at Gansey, uncertain, nature warring with something unexpected.

“Here, one moment.” Gansey climbed into the pig and hit the glove box hard to make it pop open, and offered Adam the stack of napkins and a lukewarm bottle of water from the back.

When he went to turn the key, the engine rumbled to life.

He and Adam smiled at one another.

~*~

“So are you two like, a _thing_ now?” Ronan asked.

Gansey, just home from a third date with Adam ( _a third date!)_ stopped. “I… would like to think so, but I won’t be presumptuous.” When Ronan continued to eye him pointedly, admitted, “We haven’t discussed it. I didn’t want to jinx anything.” 

It was still too tentative at times in a way he could taste, to put any sort of label to it. They were still young, he knew most people their age didn’t make things serious this soon. It was just unfortunate Gansey was rather old-fashioned. “I really like him, Ronan. I can’t help but think… Ronan, I’m sure he’s…” and gestured vast to quantify something he didn’t have a name for.

Ronan said nothing for a long time, just watching him carefully. He fingered the bands around his wrist, chewing on his lip like he wanted to combine the two actions. “I know, Dick.”

~*~

“Are you two… a thing, or something?”

Gansey rolled his eyes—he didn’t know why everyone insisted on asking him this—and turned to answer curtly.

He stopped, because Tad wasn’t talking to him. He was leaning in towards Adam to mark the conversation private. 

Gansey wasn’t sure how he felt about that. But he said nothing, didn’t intrude, just stood politely on his side of the bar and waited quietly for his coffee and hopefully more of Adam’s conversation. Adam was his own man, and Gansey had no claim on him; Gansey was not being asked to intervene or for his opinion. Adam preferred to handle his business himself, and Gansey could respect that.

He brought out his phone for something else to do other than eavesdrop. He, shamefully, found himself straining to listen anyway.

But Adam’s answer never came. Gansey’s heart plummeted into his stomach, nerves flaring into a snarled knot. He looked up, maybe Adam had nodded or shook his head. Both options were devastating.

Adam was already looking back: waiting, searching, thinking. All the things that swirled around in Adam’s head where Gansey couldn’t see. Tad looked between them doubtful, and yet hopeful. The tight feeling in Gansey’s stomach twisted.

“Yeah,” Adam said. His lips moved slowly, trying it out, asking Gansey a question and offering Tad an answer in one breath. Neither refuted him, and so Adam continued firmly, “Yes. We are.”

Gansey smiled and stepped up to the counter. “You have the garage tonight, yes?” He already knew, he had Adam’s schedule lightly penciled into a small margin of a journal page. So far Adam hadn’t called him out on it. “Milkshakes after? The sky’s supposed to be clear enough to see the belt.”

Tad made a face behind Adam, but Gansey only had eyes for the way Adam’s face softened and lifted tentatively.

“If you let me pay." 

Gansey shook his head (he didn’t understand why Adam always pressed to make things even or pay himself) but Adam’s eyes hardened and Gansey sighed and folded before he’d made a conscious effort to do so. Mentally he heard Ronan making one of his crass sound affects. “Alright. I’ll see you when you finish up.”

“You’re not staying?”

A stupid, silly part of Gansey lurched to clear his afternoon so he could. He shook his head again. “Unfortunately not, I have classes. Theology and my Classics block.”

“Right.” Adam took back his cup almost as soon as he’d handed it over. He added another shot of espresso. When he passed it back, he let Gansey’s hands fold over his. “To keep you awake.” He quirked a smile. “Can’t have you falling asleep on me, old man.”

Gansey sputtered, mock offense to cover the swoop his heart took. Adam did not tease him often, but it was becoming more frequent, and Gansey _adored_ him. Ronan would’ve laughed at that; Ronan would like Adam, if he could ever get over his territorial issues.

 

Later, when his theology class took a fifteen minute break and Gansey habitually pulled out his phone to text Adam back about whatever work-related anecdote, he had a moment of doubt.

What if Adam had just been saying that, before?

“What if he didn’t mean it?” Gansey asked his table partner emphatically and with more feeling than Tabitha was ready for. 

She looked at him owlishly from behind her glasses, alarmed. “What? The Professor? I’m sure he’ll be back in ten minutes. Just like every time. Are you okay?”

“Nothing. I mean, no, I’m fine, talking to myself,” Gansey said and turned away from her, huddling over his phone and wishing it held the answers he needed. He could just ask. But that sounded like tempting fate. And regardless, that didn’t seem like something to ask in a text message. _Hi, my professor is on a tangent that would cause Blue to commit several crimes in record time. By the way, are we dating exclusively, capital letters, and am I allowed to tell people about my wonderful boyfriend whom I kiss? Also can I kiss you?_

What if Adam only said that because Tad was persistently friendly and clearly _wanted_ something from him? What if Gansey was his cover but still little more than a passing fancy or distraction? What if Adam didn’t _actually_ care about Gansey’s search for dead kings and hidden treasures?

He worried and let his thoughts spiral through the rest of his class, which was a mistake because it only resulted in a blank section in his class notes and himself dizzy with the quickness of his pulse.

 

Classics was _worse_ because halfway through, during an open discussion no less, he trailed off mid-sentence with the sudden thought: but what if Adam _had_ meant it?

Class was a lost cause after that. He’s sure Ronan would find it infinitely funny, so that was something.

 

He worried a little through their date, as well. Adam gave him a few odd side-glances about it, but said nothing.

It turned out, with Adam’s hands pressing Gansey to the door of his dorm building, his lips pressing against Gansey’s, that there’d been nothing to worry about. 

He didn’t think Ronan would want to know any of this, but bursting through the door as if on a wind swept cloud, Gansey found himself spilling everything cheerfully anyway.

“Classic Gansey,” Noah said, as Ronan bent over in a coughing fit.

~*~

More often Adam sat down with them when he had a few minutes to spare, and they switched from homework to Glendower. More often Adam had a unique and important perspective or consideration about something that had seemed like a dead end. More often Adam sat in the chair next to Gansey, and then moved it closer. More often Adam had more information on the workings of leylines than any of them, even oddly specific things that had made Noah their professional source.

More often Adam leaned his knee against Gansey’s, and Ronan could tell every time because Gansey would about swallow his tongue. 

More often Adam had that guarded look about him as if he knew something that could help, but wasn’t sure of it.

Once, Adam had flipped through Gansey’s journal as comfortably as if it was his own, and then taken Gansey’s hand in his as he continued his banter with Ronan.

Once, Gansey made a silly suggestion that had Adam throwing his head back in a loud laugh and fondly hooking his foot around Gansey’s under the table. It was just like all the wandering daydreams Gansey had had about him. It was _better._

Once, Adam looked over a map Gansey unrolled for him, and recoiled so sharply he nearly threw himself out of his chair.

Blue was up and _over_ the counter before any of them could figure out what had even happened.

“You…” Adam looked at Gansey and then couldn’t look at him, face burning. “You never said you thought he was in Henrietta.” 

Gansey couldn’t parse out his tone and he leaned forward after Adam, dropping a hand on his knee and then jerking it back when Adam flinched. “I didn’t? Odd, it’s the source of most of our tangible findings. I’m sorry, I thought I had. Sorry, why am I sorry?”

Adam looked at him, eyes panicky and chest rising and falling shallow. “I have to get back to work.”

“What?” 

“The fuck?” Ronan finished for him.

“He said he’s done with you pricks,” Blue said. Her eyes were narrow and flinty, staunchly supportive of Adam but trying to ascertain why. It didn’t matter to her. She cuffed Ronan across the back of his head, making his feet and the legs of his chair clatter to the ground. “Don’t make me kick y’all out.”

“No ma’am,” Noah said. For once he didn’t seem to be teasing with her.

Gansey spent the rest of the afternoon pouring over that blasted map, and trying to understand what had set Adam off.

~*~

“Just ask him!” Ronan had been stomping around the apartment all afternoon, sighing harsh through his teeth.

It was getting on Gansey’s nerves, but then, most things were these days because he just couldn’t _understand._

“I _can’t_ , Ronan! What if it was something I did? What if everything’s ruined before it’s truly begun?”

Ronan scoffed and threw himself into the couch. Noah, already there, yanked his legs out of the way too slowly and made a squawk not unlike chainsaw. “Ow, hey. Careful. I’m corporeal here.”

Ronan grumbled something, but his face darkened and turned away into the back of the couch.

He’d forgotten, Gansey realized. He traded a look with Noah, who looked apologetic for even complaining. What a mess they all were. Perhaps they were all cracked and chipped from their circumstances and, no matter if they were unavoidable, they were no longer fit for anyone else but each other.

Gansey sat in the armchair and dropped his face into his hands, breath hitching and swallowing the stutter down shamefully.

“Aw shit, don’t cry,” Ronan said.

“I won’t. Just… making peace.”

Ronan groaned. The couch protested as he levered himself up and threw a pillow at him. “Nothing’s ruined. If it was, we’d’ve ruined it long before now.”

“Just talk to him,” Noah offered. “Talking never ruined anything, and if it did…" Noah trailed off and didn’t finish, and Gansey sat up to see his eyes empty and far away. He looked… pale, gaunt, a little like he used to while lost in his thoughts.

Something hard fell into Gansey’s stomach—he saw it mirrored on Ronan’s face. 

“Hey— _hey_ , Noah, Casper, you with us?”

Noah jerked his eyes up and offered Ronan a belated smile. “Yeah, I’m here.” He leaned down the couch to tug at Ronan’s wrist bands, twisting them until Ronan batted him away, and then collapsed on him while he was already there. Ronan, for once, said nothing and twisted his arms around him.

“Nothing is ruined by talking,” Gansey prompted. He didn’t care about the sentiment, didn’t care about Adam in this moment, just wanted Noah talking and normal again. 

“Oh yeah. If something’s ruined by talking, then it was already ruined from the start, and you were just fooling yourself.”

“Harsh,” Ronan said. 

Noah shrugged.

“Just ask what his damage is,” Ronan said. “Please, for all our sake. You’re moping and it’s annoying. And he’s smart, we could use more smarts around here.”

“Hey!” Noah said.

“I was talking about Dick. But you too.”

They looked at each other reproachfully, and then started laughing at the same time. It was comforting and Gansey found himself calmed by it despite everything else.

Gansey watched them, let the feeling of _home_ settle in his chest and thought about all that. If Ronan was pushing him to patch things up, that meant something. Despite his nature, Ronan must see something in Adam too. That he was important. That he was part of their quest. That Gansey liked him, and that could be enough.

Ronan might actually believe all this. Ronan believed in very little.

~*~

Gansey took a deep breath and stepped up to the counter, his scarf wrapped tight around his neck up to his jaw like a bit of soft armor. He had class in twenty minutes, he had an out if he needed, if… if Adam told him to get lost.

Adam himself jumped a little when he turned to see him, discomfort in his expression. He was steeling himself as well before coming over. But his shoulders slumped apologetically, and Gansey took heart in that and offered a half smile.

There were a dozen things he could say, a dozen questions and accusations he was owed, hurt he could express. He needed to get to the bottom of this misunderstanding for all their sakes, and yet when he opened his mouth all that came was a soft and desperate, “Are we okay?" 

Adam’s lips parted in surprised; his face twisted in _regret_. Gansey breathed. They were okay. That clearly wasn’t what Adam was expecting from him. Adam reached across the counter hesitantly, but took his hands like they were made of glass, like he was expecting Gansey to snap at him or yank them away. Gansey twisted their fingers together and held on tight.

“Yeah,” Adam breathed. “Yeah, Gans, we’re good.” Strained, “Sorry. If you thought we weren’t.”

Gansey nodded and squeezed his hands and said, “It’s okay.” It wasn’t.

He should ask about Henrietta. Instead he asked, “Did I do something wrong, the other day? I’d like to avoid that, in the future.” 

“No, it wasn’t you,” Adam said, shaking his head. His eyes screamed, _yes yes yes._  

Gansey went to class.

~*~

Adam stopped sitting with them while they did homework. Or rather, he did when it was just homework, but as soon as the Glendower research came out he suddenly had tasks to finish or restocking to do or employees to help. 

Somehow Gansey felt farther from Adam than when they weren’t dating.

_Dating._ It should fill Gansey with a thrill and an excitement akin to a sunlit library, and yet now there was only murky trepidation and dread that any next action or word could be the end of them. He didn’t like the feeling. He liked less the alternative that came with actually talking to Adam about it.

Noah’s words haunted him, and he tried to wave his hand through them like smoke. First mentally and then, when that didn’t work, with his actual hand. It was a habit becoming worryingly frequent to the point Blue kept accusing him of having a muscle spasm issue that should be look at. “Including that head of yours,” she’d add, but it was less vitriolic than it used to be. If Gansey didn’t know better, he’d say she almost sounded sad for him.

So, for the most part, Adam stopped sitting with them and Gansey missed him more fiercely than he probably should. He missed Adam’s brain and his beautiful eyes and his beautiful lips curling in a smile at something he’d said. He missed Adam’s sharp quips at Ronan and the heated way they’d banter until Noah was laughing and diffusing everything with a dumb comment or an ill-timed kiss to Ronan’s face. He missed the little origami animals Ronan would make just to throw at Adam across the table, and how Adam secretly kept all of them (he’d seen them when he’d visited Adam at his dorm; the way they were lined up along the window next to his bed like a parade. Or maybe a barrier. Adam’s steadfast ignorance of their placement made Gansey think he wasn’t supposed to have seen them.)

What was even worse, if there even was such a thing worse than the absence of Adam’s company, was that despite his best efforts, Adam couldn’t stay away completely himself. He drifted by their table anyway, listening, paying attention, cataloguing it all and looking like he had something to contribute… before carrying on with his sweeping and stopping only to swat at Ronan’s pinching fingers or touch Gansey’s shoulder softly.

It wasn’t enough. Gansey wasn’t sure he could ever be content with just that, with someone to date for the sake of it and not someone who would go off on adventures with him. Someone to see the world with and discover treasures and mysteries with. Someone who would listen to Gansey’s ramblings and smile fondly at him anyway.

And that’s what this all came down to. This summer. Right after exams. Gansey and Ronan had plans to return home for the summer break and close this once and for all, and Gansey had been planning on Adam being on that road trip with them. They were _so close._ He could feel it.

He just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

 

 

 

“Hey, do you want—Oh. Oh man, Gansey, what happened?” Adam sat down in the chair next to him, arm slung along the top of his chair and leaning in close. Gansey sighed and dropped the test marked in red face down on the table and leaned his face into Adam’s shoulder. He smelled mostly of coffee grounds, but there was something soft like pine and maybe citrus.

“I was… distracted,” Gansey admitted, somewhat shamefully. He hadn’t gotten such a low grade in a while, and certainly not in this class. But he hadn’t studied, because he’d been here, busy talking to Adam and Blue. And he hadn’t studied this last weekend, because he’d been busy keeping Ronan whole and safe and out of trouble. He hadn’t studied the night before, even, because he’d fallen asleep at his desk almost immediately. Too much to do and not enough time. Too many people to care for and keep happy, and not enough time.

It was like trying to keep leaves on a pond surface from drifting apart, trying to keep his people from drifting apart. He didn’t think he was doing a very good job of it.

He shifted his head, shaking it in response to something unsaid by Adam but felt in the silence between them and the way Adam lightly let his arm drape around Gansey’s shoulders. “It’s nothing. These things happen. Take a look at Ronan.” He managed a laugh, and liked when Adam snorted with him.

It was just a bad grade. It was fine. It _was_ a thing that happened, but it was less about the grade itself and more what it represented. He was failing.

He straightened up, looking into Adam’s eyes as he stayed close and considered. When he leaned in Adam allowed the dry press of lips, even kissing back when Gansey tried to pull away. It was nice. It was soft. It was a balm on everything that had happened and everything that was happening and everything that might not.

Adam kissed his cheek when Gansey sat back. He kept Adam’s arm on him, didn’t let him get very far, but just enough he could look into his eyes and admire the light dusting of freckles and his skin slightly chapped over his cheekbones. “You’re coming with us, aren’t you?”

It was the wrong thing to say, of course, because Adam’s torso tensed under his worn sweater, his eyes narrowed slightly, his soft lips previous parted easy in the memory of Gansey’s kiss closed in a thin line. “Gansey…” It sounded upset. It sounded tired. It sounded like a warning.

Gansey nodded, even if that hadn’t told him anything. “Please? I… I want you to be there. I want you to come back with us. This summer. Just for the summer. Let me show you my home and Ronan’s forest. Come find Glendower with me. Don’t you want to?” He sounded desperate even to his own ears but he couldn’t find it in him to be ashamed of it. He’d almost always gotten what he’d ask for, and he still didn’t know how to accept a no. Adam was not someone he could push. He would have to learn, if he wanted to keep Adam.

Adam said nothing. For a lack of words. He looked at Gansey, but his knee bounced under the table, nervous. Gansey put his hand over Adam’s knee, but didn’t try to still him. Adam’s eyes showed relief for it.

“The forest?” Adam said, quiet like a dream.

“Yes?”

“Ronan’s?”

“Yes, in a sense. It’s called Cabeswater. In Henrietta. Have you heard of it?”

Adam shook his head, but said, “I can’t.”

“Can’t have heard of it?”

“Can’t go back.” Before Gansey could ask, the words spilled out of Adam like an open wound, “No, Gansey, I can’t go back there.”

They were having two different conversations. They were having several conversations but Gansey hadn’t been let in on any of them

He inhaled sharp. Let it out on a hurt and mystified, “What? Adam, Adam, what do you mean you—have you—“

But then suddenly it all clicked and made sense. Suddenly Gansey felt like a damn fool for missing all the pieces that had been thrown into his lap. Starting with Adam’s shock at the map, like a ghost. There was the careful refusal to mention his parents, the fact that he was deaf in one ear, the bone-deep flinch Gansey sometimes saw in his eyes, the way he sometimes made a face that matched Ronan’s; Adam’s coveted independence and drive for success, the secretive way he redirected conversations. All pieces, all parts to a life Gansey couldn’t imagine without it having to be spelled out for him.

“We missed you,” Gansey realized. He molded himself into Adam’s side to keep him from scaring off, as he sometimes did and masked with forced anger. “You were there and we walked right past you a hundred times, I’d bet. Even though you’re beautiful and important and—“

Adam pulled a face, pinched and uncomfortable, looking away. He never did like Gansey complimenting him at all. Gansey couldn’t help it—he’d stopped worrying about it recently because Adam should know. Now more than ever. 

“You went to Aglionby,” Adam mumbled, to explain it all away. But that wasn’t good enough and they both knew it, because everything about Gansey’s life had been extraordinary in some way and even Adam couldn’t deny the forces that guided it. For all intents and purposes, a small thing like separate schools should never have been enough to keep them apart.

“All the time wasted, not knowing you,” Gansey said, smiling soft for the way it made Adam blush and look away.

“I told myself I would never go back.”

“But Adam, we—we, _I_ need you.”

Adam closed his eyes. He squeezed Gansey’s shoulder. “Don’t, Gans. That’s not fair. That’s not _fair,_ and you know it.”

Gansey frowned, but leaned into Adam’s touch. “It’s true. The psychics, they said we wouldn’t make anymore progress until we located the magician. And that’s, that’s _you_ , Adam. All the help you’ve been with our research and theories has more than proven that.”

“The psychics,” Adam repeated. “Where.”

“In Henrietta.”

Adam sighed harsh and looked away, bringing the hand not on Gansey up to rub at his face and through his hair. “Fox Way. Right?” When Gansey looked up in surprise that he knew it, Adam nodded and continued, “I… I was there a lot, through school. That’s Blue’s family. They were very kind to me, when I didn’t deserve it.”

“Blue?” Gansey said. He looked over to the counter where Blue was currently chewing someone out and aggressively cleaning something. “That’s, really? Her, too?” Suddenly the tarot cards made a lot more sense. Suddenly Blue, as a person, made a lot more sense. 

What a small world they all lived in.

A small world made of connected threads. Maybe more than that, maybe they were all little knots in the same spool of thread, connected from the start. A romantic, silly part of him whispered, _fated._

Adam, resigned and uncertain, looked at him like he was having the same thoughts.

Gansey knew he’d get what he wanted, but for the first time he wasn’t sure if he wanted it anymore, if it was going to cause Adam distress. He didn’t know if it would be worth it. Maybe he could ask Glendower to lift the past from Adam’s weary shoulders.

“We don’t—you don’t have to go back. If it’ll be too hard.” They both knew that was a lie. Adam was making a decision somewhere behind his eyes. “But I have to. This is what I’ve been preparing for. I need to see this through and I’d love if you were there with us. But you don't have to.” More than that, he was certain Adam was intrinsic to their quest, that they truly _couldn’t_ without him. But… Adam was more important than that, because he was a person, one that deserved this respect. Glendower could wait until Adam was ready. Even if it made something ache in his chest, his anxiety spiking and spiraling in a dozen undesirable outcomes of anyone else finding him before they did.

“You don’t mean that,” Adam said.

For a long moment Gansey couldn’t say anything, because it was true. “I can try,” he finally said. “But. Adam. If you think you could go, knowing you weren’t alone, I’d really appreciate it if you considered it. I know you wanted to go, before you knew _where._ This is really important to me. And—”

“Don’t.”

“—so are you.”

Adam looked away, frowning, warring with himself. “I can’t.” His voice wobbled. It sounded a little like, _but I will._

Gansey didn’t let himself hope. Or rather, tried not to even as it wormed its way into his brain and set off a flood of warmth. He leaned most of his weight into the hand on Adam’s knee and stretched up to nose in for a kiss. Adam indulged him, if begrudging.

“I know what you’re doing,” he whispered, but let Gansey kiss him again.

“Nothing but kissing you,” Gansey promised. “Is that okay?”

“What do you think?" 

Something light and pointed hit Gansey in the back of the head, and he twisted in Adam’s embrace to look forlorn at Blue. She was glaring at the register, another cardboard coffee sleeve poised in her hand to fling at them.

“Not in my shop!” 

“But, Blue,” Adam said reasonably, “I’m only cheering him up. He got a bad grade on his test.”

 Gansey blinked, distracted and confused. He’d already forgotten about that. It wasn’t important, not in comparison to everything else. “Right. That. I’m inconsolable.”

“You’re the worst is what you are,” Blue said, but she didn’t shoo Gansey out, and didn’t call Adam back to his post behind the counter. “And bad for business.”

Adam laughed. Gansey laughed with him. 

“Blue,” he asked. “What are you doing for summer break?”

~*~

Gansey had always planned on going back, and they were, because they were going to find his King. Days after all their final exams had been completed and submitted, days after work vacation forms had been approved. It was going to be a hot summer, they could tell already, and Gansey breathed it all in and felt himself revitalized even as it filled his lungs to choking.

He hadn’t accounted for Blue squeezing herself into the back of the Pig with their bags and boxes and Gansey’s books, Ronan protesting when it pushed a bag out the door on the other side and Noah holding his stomach as he laughed.

But that was okay, because in the passenger seat was Adam. Clearly not _ready_ for whatever was going to come of all this, but still there all the same; sorting the snacks and their water bottles and the crumpled map covered in Gansey’s and his own pen marks. He looked over when Gansey hesitated by the driver’s side, and offered a lopsided smile, backlit by the sun and seeming to shine.

None of them knew what was coming, or how to prepare, but they were together. A jumbled mess of magnetic ends and youthful exuberance. They would all face ghosts when they crossed into city limits, but it didn’t have to stop them. Nothing could stop them. Not now, not anyone.


End file.
